A Rise of the Guardians / Guardians of Childhood Fanfic

By Sakura Martinez


Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or the Guardians of Childhood series. It would have been awesome if I did, but I don't. Those belong to William Joyce and Dreamworks Animation.


Summary: Pitch's parting words to Jack and the other Guardians of Childhood during the Battle of Belief held a clear message: The Guardians may have won the battle, but the war was far from over. Now, Pitch is rallying the forces of darkness, calling to arms a dark and sinister group: The Fright Knights. The battle to end the war is underway, but are the Guardians ready?


Rise of the Fright Knights

Chapter One

The Moonbeam's Journey


Tsar Lunar—most commonly referred to as the Man in the Moon—watched, as he always did, on his throne in the moon. Huge contraptions, most of them from the Golden Age, encircled him. These contraptions—from large telescopes, to huge basins filled with Moon Water, and large mirrors—enabled him to watch over the planet (and its denizens) that he had grown extremely fond of.

His Moonbeams, little fairy creatures made of light, flitted in and out reporting to him of the things they had witnessed and experienced firsthand. They told him of how sparkly the frozen ponds and rivers were. They told him how little Timmy Garisson sneaked off again in the middle of the night to visit the horse in their barn. They told him of how well Betty Croft was growing. They told him all kinds of things, and even though the Moonbeams had a funny way of speaking, Tsar Lunar always loved hearing stories from them.

The Moonbeams were not just his messengers. They were also his friends and constant companions. In the events after his father and his mother's death—the memory, although foggy, still pained him—they had helped him through. They were also his teachers, teaching him all he needed to know when his parents had vanished.

He smiled at the memory of them frolicking about the moon, which was the remnants of the Moon Cleaver—the ship he, his father, and his mother had boarded in hopes of hiding off from the destroyer of worlds and civilizations, the Nightmare King.

The thought of the Nightmare King—of Pitch Black—however, made Tsar Lunar frown.

He had almost lost Earth to Pitch, and it did not sit well with him that the Nightmare King had grown that much stronger in his solitude. He knew that with how strong Pitch was, he would not stay down for long. Not when the need for vengeance was fresh.

Ever since Pitch's defeat, Tsar Lunar had told his Moonbeams to be ever so vigilant. He asked that they doubled their efforts and report swiftly if there was a change in the air—even if it was small. The Moonbeams had agreed and promised to do such. But a year had passed since then and there was no word of any disturbance. Nightmares were rarer than a unicorn, almost non-existent. And, when they disturbed a child's sleep, his Moonbeams were quick to help, dispelling them.

Of course, Tsar Lunar couldn't help but wonder why Pitch was sending his weakest Nightmares to feed—for that was what they were: Pitch's weakest minions. As much as how the Man in the Moon was proud of his Moonbeams, he knew they alone can't really do anything to harm the Nightmare Men and Fearlings.

He pondered and pondered, but could find no reason for it. In the end, he dismissed it as the Nightmare King strengthening his weaker minions, but still urged his Moonbeams to keep being on the lookout. Perhaps, if Tsar Lunar had taken that as a sign and had pondered on it some more, then maybe things could have been averted and this story would have remained untold.


The Moonbeam hoped, skipped, and jumped. It grazed the Pacific Ocean, moving from one point to another and creating a reflection on the water that made it glitter like thousands of diamonds. Like all Moonbeams, it also had a particularly strong imagination and it imagined itself as a hero of some untold epic as it bounced from the ocean back to the sky and flitted around the leaves of the trees that surrounded a small town.

Funsies and laughies all arounds; childrens a-playsies the darkness unbounds.
The Pitch no longer reigning supremes; the Guardians a-winning, Moonie still king.
With snowies fillings the grounds; Sandy sends childrens to sleepy town.
But befores the Guardians say bye-byes, Frostie and Sandy sends one more gifties to the sky.

The Moonbeam sang as it made its way, recounting—in its own way—the events during the end of the Battle of Belief. Its joyous song, however, was cut short when it sensed something dark and sinister at a nearby hut.

With a swiftness and deftness that only a Moonbeam possessed, it jumped from one place to another—from glass, to water, to mirrors and windows—until it was inside the hut. When it got there, it found a little girl groaning in her sleep.

The Moonbeam slowly made its way to the girl's bedside. Once near, it saw the girl shaking in her sleep. Large drops of sweat dotted her face causing her short auburn hair to stick to her scalp, her forehead, and her neck.

Little girly is a-scaredy, the Moonbeam thought to itself. It knew only one reason why the little girl would be tossing and turning in her sleep. Looking around, the Moonbeam shifted. But where's Nightmares?

The Moonbeam made itself shine brighter, lighting the whole room until all the shadows had been pushed back. And yet, there was neither Nightmare nor Fearling. It was just the little Moonbeam and the little girl.

The Moonbeam once again looked at the girl. She was still tossing and turning, the nightmare was still strong in her mind.

I needs to finds Sandy. I needs to tell Moonsies and Moonie. It nodded to itself. It had made its plan of action. Looking at the little girl one more time, the Moonbeam made a silent gesture and a promise to come back with help before it jumped from reflective surface to reflective surface until it was outside of the hut.

But before it could jettison itself upwards and follow the trail of the Sadman's dreamsands; before it could share the disturbing news to its fellow Moonbeams; and before it could report back to the Man in the Moon, the Moonbeam found itself trapped.

The Moonbeam panicked. It couldn't move. This has never happened before to the young Moonbeam and the feeling of being boxed in frightened it. It tried to break free, not knowing what was holding it back, but no matter how much it tried to escape, nothing worked.

And then…and then it heard a laugh. The coldest laugh it had ever heard and if it could send shivers up and down the Moonbeam's spine (but it can't, for Moonbeams do not have spines), it would have.

"Tut-tut-tut," Pitch said as he dragged the trapped Moonbeam under a very shadowy canopy of trees before he materialized. "I can't let you galloping off and ruining my preparations now, can I?"

The Moonbeam, despite feeling shaken, still tried to break free. This only made Pitch laugh even more.

"That's futile," Pitch said. "If there's one thing I have learned, one of the most important ones is the sturdiness of a glass made from the darkness of the earth's core. Struggle as much as you want, but you will never be able to escape there. I will watch you. You shall be my little experiment. Let's see how long it takes before the glass absorbs all of your light, shall we?"

Any other creature might have given up upon hearing that, but not the little Moonbeam. Even though it knew the perils the darkness of the earth's core brings, the Moonbeam still refused to give up. It kept trying to escape, even as Pitch took it to the Nightmare King's lair.


If the Moonbeam was scared, it didn't show it. It was at awe at where it was heading, after all, not a Moonbeam could say—apart from itself—that it had ever ventured off into Pitch's domain. And that was where this Moonbeam had found itself in: in Pitch's lair.

At least, that was until it was dragged further and further, deeper and deeper, into the darkness of the Nightmare King's domain. Everywhere it looked, there were Fearling and Nightmares of every shape and color. There were a lot of them and they ate away at the little Moonbeam's light even more.

The Nightmares and the Fearlings jeered and taunted the Moonbeam as Pitch dragged it by the end of the staff from where the shard of the earth's core glass was propped. When they got to the Nightmare King's throne room, Pitch placed the staff horizontally at a pedestal.

The grin on Pitch's face was wide and scarier under the darkness and the diming glow of the Moonbeam. The look on his eyes was almost fevered, wild, and feral. He looked at the Moonbeam expectantly.

Pitch wondered how much longer the Moonbeam could stay as it is—a Moonbeam. He wanted to see if the magic he had added into the earth's core glass would work the way he wanted it to. For that cause, he was willing to be patient…even if that would take hundreds of years. After all, this have to work if the Boogeyman—the Nightmare King, Pitch Black—wanted to be victorious.

It didn't take long, however, for the Moonbeam to feel something different; something…odd. It started with the feeling of being pulled in all directions. It felt like it was going to be torn in two. It had never felt something like that before. It was a constricting feeling, a sickening feeling.

The Moonbeam's light dimmed and brightened, dimmed and brightened, over and over again. It tried to retain its silvery light as it kept on struggling to get out, but the Moonbeam knew there was no escape. Not for it.

Slowly, the Moonbeam began to lose itself. It started to lose its sense of self and purpose. Before it totally forgot who and what it was, it sent a silent prayer—a wish. It was a wish that Tsar Lunar and the Guardians be able to withstand the evil it knew, at that moment, Pitch Black would spread to the world.

And then, the Moonbeam lost its silvery light.

Pitch watched gleefully, a smile filled with menace etched on his face as the Moonbeam transformed into something sinister and hideous. Its light turned into an ominous reddish-violet glow.

"Yes!" Pitched howled triumphantly. He couldn't help but do a small victory dance at the sight of the transformed Moonbeam. "YES!"

The Nightmares and Fearlings, sensing their master's good mood, drew close to the Nightmare King. They were curious.

Turning to face his creatures of darkness, Pitch's smile was eerie and disturbing. It was the smile that told them chaos was about to begin in the world above.

"It's time," was all Pitch needed to say before a flurry of activity erupted all around.

It was time, indeed.